Old Man Rich

Welcome to the strangely normal world of Old Man Rich

Monday, November 27, 2006

weekend

I drove to the magic county of Essex on Friday. Driving anywhere in the UK on a Friday is just plain dumb. The A14 was nose to tail for its entire length. Four hours to get from Tamworth to Chelmsford. Our roads are crap & I blame Tony Blair. When I arrived home my father had already gone to the pub. I would have cursed but he had left me a bowl of welks in the fridge. Cant ask for better than that.

On Saturday I went with my father on our annual pilgrimage to the hallowed turf of Twickenham. I forget how much I enjoy this day out. Sitting on the train sharing the Independent. Supping quality ale in the white cross. The walk to the ground (now with a new route with a pub half way. Its slightly longer but we get an extra beer & avoid having to pee in the allotments). The sheer volume of the national anthem sung by 80,000 drunks in a confined space. The rugby match is almost incidental. Which, given England’s performance is a good thing. In the first half we almost looked like a side. Our pack was functioning, the positional kicking was far from world class but tolerable and, although uncoordinated and inept, our backs produced some good individual play. There was an air of expectation. After all, you can’t question England’s fitness, a good team talk and we would dominate the second half. No idea what Robinson said to the team at half time but the second half was a nightmare of incompetence. The South African back line came good, and whilst I remain unconvinced that endless drop goal attempts are in the spirit of the game, it certainly worked for them. Suffice to say we left before full time, although we could still hear the crowd boo the England side off the pitch from Twickenham station. Time to sack the Coach and the captain me thinks. As do everyone except the coach and the captain.Anyway we rounded the day of with more beer and a very nice curry. All in all a damn fine day out.

On Sunday I popped round my friend Cabij’s. She is a headmistress. Unfortunately, due to some rather silly health and safety rules regarding asbestos she doesn’t actually have a school. She did explain how she was coping but I wasn’t really listening. I think she teaches in a field and has to wrestle bears. Anyway she is a little stressed. I have suggested she could unwind by making pornography. She hit me, but I think she’s coming round to the idea.

I returned home to find major progress in the bathroom department. The airing cupboard has been rebuilt following my late night temper tantrum with a lump hammer. The bath is in the right place. The toilet flushes & the units are in the right place. I actually start to believe it may be sorted by Christmas. So, just time for a quick nap before the monthly quiz at the crown. I awoke at 2am in the armchair, quiz long over & back very stiff. Still, all in all a damn good weekend.

Not Blog-shy, just busy

I’m currently working away. This has many downs. For instance, two hours a day commuting. Getting up at 6am. Not being able to pop home lunchtimes. Getting fatter as I am not walking to work. And, most terrible of all, not being able to blog.On the plus side, It pays the bills.

I have just applied for an internal transfer to Brussels. I don’t expect to get it, but its annoying my boss, which is good. Meanwhile I am doing relentless shite. The sexy metrics job turned out to be tool support & roll out for a tool that’s conceptually flawed and will be replaced in the new year. Fortunately I am involved in some testing work (endless test reruns – its grim but does not require me to engage my brain much) which takes priority so I avoiding doing much for the metrics people.

Still, the pension is good & there are only 23 more years until I retire.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Little John ???

Friday, November 10, 2006

Driller Killer

There are people who are good at DIY. Who can hammer a nail in without it bending. Who can saw in a straight line. Who have tools, rather than lumps of rusting metal. And, quite frankly, I spit on you and you kind.

Last night I finally attempted to sort out the bathroom lights. This means going up in my loft space. Which is not a pleasant place. So with torch in hand and drill in teeth I slide on my belly through the gap between the water tank and the eaves, trying desperately to rest on the beams rather than bring large amounts of ceiling down. Inhaling a heady combination of dust and fibreglass insulation I find the wires for the far light & drill down a marker hole, careful not to electrocute myself on the live wires. So if that’s the far light, then the near light must be, erm, somewhere under my left nipple. Praising the gods for the insulating properties of Christmas jumpers I role gingerly onto my side. Somehow I press the drill trigger. Busy trying not to put unwanted holes in the ceiling, water tank or myself whilst simultaneously not connecting myself to the mains, I drop the torch. Which goes out.

At this point I may have taken the name of our lord in vain.

Finally, I have the two marker holes drilled & I escape the loft with only a minor flesh wound in my left thigh from a spurious nail. Now is my chance to use my whizzy new hole driller to drill up through the bathroom ceiling.

Unfortunately, whilst scrabbling around in the loft I have switched the drill into reverse. So, the metal foil blade escapes its retainer & flies across the room at high speed. Remarkably I keep both my eyes. Anyway, Steve is round on Saturday, so I think I will pay him to drill some holes for me.

The Orion Nebula

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Ho Ho Ho, and a very Merry, erm, Autum to you all.

Oh My God. I have just walked through Telford town centre. Animatronic elves with deformed smiles abound. Idiots in ‘seasonal’ fancy dress leap out from shop doors clutching several forests worth of flyers. The war veterans huddle together, attempting to sell their paper poppies amid endless wreaths of holly and tinsel, actually quite pleased that they lost their eardrums on the beaches of France and so cannot hear the endless Christmas muzak.

Its not even halfway through November, you Cretins!!!

Now I am up for celebrating the winter solstice with the next bloke. The nights begin to grow shorter, there is signs that the winter will end. Yup, by all means dance in the snow, naked except for some carefully positioned mistletoe. I intend to. And if you can find an attractive virgin to sacrifice, or even just a game girl up for a midwinter frolic, then so much the better. But do it on December the 21st. Not halfway through autumn. Sheesh, the trees still have leaves on.

And if you wish to celebrate the birth of a Jewish radical on December the 25th, great. Ok, the Census of Herod was in October. (October 4BC. and being born four years before your born is a neat trick). But lets not be picky, the Christ Mass is ok. So I shall be celebrating his massage of tolerance, kindness and generosity to my fellow man by consuming whole turky’s, watching my nephews & niece receive hugely expensive presents that the neither want or need, and sleeping through the queens speech in proper C-of-E Christian fashion. But I shall do it then. Not Now.

Meanwhile. I will not purchase anything from a shop that has bloody Yule tat going on before December. Hah. Take that you evil exploiters of fat old men with white beards (and probable reindeer buggerers).

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Inflatable polar bear sex

I don’t agree with the death sentence. Just because someone else has committed hideous crimes against humanity doesn’t make it ok for us to do the same. However, there is one notable exception to this rule. Yup. People who put up Christmas decorations before the start of December should be hung by the neck until dead. I was pretty sure that this could be applied in all cases. But today I discovered an exception to the exception. So if your Christmas decorations feature giant inflatable partly unclothed polar bears having polar bear child sex, then that’s pretty much ok all year round in my book.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

where did summer go?

This week saw our first frosts. And I didn’t have the greenhouse heater on, but I think everything has survived. Spent yesterday morning in the garden. The fuchias and geraniums have been lifted, the bedding plants have been ripped out & I’m ready to start on phase 2 of the garden. Almost. Unfortunately the damn house still need stuff doing. Like a bathroom. Well, there is some progress. It now has ceilings & walls and most of a floor. I painted the ceiling this morning. And, without realising, much of my face. So when I came to the office the security guard had a good laugh at me. Anyway, I aim to fit the new ceiling lights this afternoon. And assuming I survive electrocution I can then go to the pub & watch England get spanked by the All Blacks. Yesterday saw Wales and Australia provide a feast of exciting rugby in a 29 all tie. Unfortunately I don’t see today’s match being quite as good.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Goodbye Harry Ramsden

No more seafood. So says a new report. If current trends continue most of the worlds fisheries will be kaput by 2050. Of course, the current trend isn’t going to continue. Its gonna get worse. Already 29% of fisheries have ‘collapsed’. That means that the catch is now less than 10% of their original yield. So already a quarter of the worlds fish are gone. And by 2050 there will be none left worth mentioning. This isn’t scaremongering, its what’s gonna happen.

In great Britain we have a large coastline & own a lot of sea for our size. And guess how many marine reserves we have? One. At Lundy. Despite repeated warnings that the north sea fish stocks, particularly Cod, are in terminal decline the government has repeatedly refused to act. Saying they must protect our fishermen. Erm, no fish in 43 years Tony. How’s that for protection. But its OK because Green Tony is going to bring in a host of environmental taxes, and save the world by subsidising the big businesses that he’s selling our hospitals to.

And its not just no more prawns. Once a fishery collapses the biodiversity goes. Most of the other species die off. And, and this is just my thought, not mentioned in the government report, but isn’t the sea where most of our CO2 (responsible for global warming) gets turned into O2 (the stuff that we breathe)?